Kent State at 40
My dad was driving me home that day when we heard the news on the car radio. I clearly remember we were on Northfield Road in Bedford, not too far from Chanel High School, heading south.
"It's about time somebody did something about those hippies," or words to that effect, came from my dad's mouth. A World War II veteran, Dad was not very tolerant of anti-war protests, thinking it was unpatriotic to question the government. Years later, though, he admitted he was wrong about the war, realizing it was very, very different from his war.
"My God," I thought, "four years from now, that could be me." A freshman in high school, I was horrified that soldiers would turn and fire live ammo at a group of students. I distinctly remember wondering what my dad's thoughts would be if it was me on campus that terrifying day.
In part because of the Kent State shootings, I decided to attend Bowling Green State Unviersity. The idea of going to Kent was just too chilling.
While at Bowling Green, I worked for the student newspaper, The BG News, which always commemorated the shootings. On May 4, 1977, during my tenure as editor-in-chief of The BG News, we ran John Filo's photo of Mary Ann Vecchio screaming in anguish over the dead body of a fellow student, together with an editorial reminding our fellow students not to forget.
In the years since then, I've often paused to remember the shootings and how they affected not only me, but our nation. On May 4, 1995, I was flying to Cleveland with my young son. We were living in Alabama at the time, but coming home to visit my dying mother. As the plane made its final approach to Cleveland Hopkins airport, I remember thinking how it seemed impossible that 25 years had passed since the shootings.
The day is indelibly etched in my mind. Before we had Sept. 11, 2001, our generation had May 4, 1970.
We must never forget.
"It's about time somebody did something about those hippies," or words to that effect, came from my dad's mouth. A World War II veteran, Dad was not very tolerant of anti-war protests, thinking it was unpatriotic to question the government. Years later, though, he admitted he was wrong about the war, realizing it was very, very different from his war.
"My God," I thought, "four years from now, that could be me." A freshman in high school, I was horrified that soldiers would turn and fire live ammo at a group of students. I distinctly remember wondering what my dad's thoughts would be if it was me on campus that terrifying day.
In part because of the Kent State shootings, I decided to attend Bowling Green State Unviersity. The idea of going to Kent was just too chilling.
While at Bowling Green, I worked for the student newspaper, The BG News, which always commemorated the shootings. On May 4, 1977, during my tenure as editor-in-chief of The BG News, we ran John Filo's photo of Mary Ann Vecchio screaming in anguish over the dead body of a fellow student, together with an editorial reminding our fellow students not to forget.
In the years since then, I've often paused to remember the shootings and how they affected not only me, but our nation. On May 4, 1995, I was flying to Cleveland with my young son. We were living in Alabama at the time, but coming home to visit my dying mother. As the plane made its final approach to Cleveland Hopkins airport, I remember thinking how it seemed impossible that 25 years had passed since the shootings.
The day is indelibly etched in my mind. Before we had Sept. 11, 2001, our generation had May 4, 1970.
We must never forget.
posted by Joe Wollet at 1:30 PM
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